Tooth and War
by HoodedSpellcaster
Summary: Charlie becomes a professor at Durmstrang after leaving Romania. / Post-War, Charlie Weasley centric.


QLFC Round 11 — I Open At The Close

CHASER 3: Magical Object — Dragon tooth

ROUND PROMPT: Your story must end with the same word you started it with.

OPTIONAL PROMPTS: 8. (word) bounce / 11. (word) frost / 13. (setting) Durmstrang

A/N: Post-War, Charlie Weasley centric. A big thanks to Jordi and Sam for proofreading.

* * *

In the North somewhere, the rugged castle stands proudly between the snow cloaked mountains. In all honesty, Charlie isn't sure where he is, the place being Unplottable and some odd customs still in use. He hasn't even once planned to ask about the location during the past three months the school has been the place of his residency. It's not for him to know. And anyway, his third floor window offers a nice view to the surrounding lakes, even if the room is otherwise quite bare.

The frost covers his windowsill and creeps up the glass. It's a darn cold November and the entirety of magical folk should be grateful someone back in the old days invented heating spells. Charlie stares out the window, a steaming cup of black coffee in his hands. The Northern climate aches his injured leg, but what can he do? Chop it off? He grins at the idea. He can almost imagine the horrified look on his mother's face and while it would, in a way, be very amusing to see her reaction, he doesn't want her to suffer another heart attack. He takes a sip; it's still too hot and too bitter. The locals can't even make a good coffee. He misses tea and good ale. And dragons.

He never thought he would find himself in Durmstrang of all places. Not with steady income and essays to grade, at least. He teaches Care of Magical Creatures, or some sort of equivalent of it. It's a good job, he thinks. He can speak about dragons every lesson if he wants. Well, not every lesson. His curriculum requires him to address other creatures as well. But mostly dragons. His leg feels weak, and he has to put his coffee cup down and reach for his cane.

"Can you feel your legs?" the healer had asked him almost immediately when he had woken up in the infirmary. He had fallen from the back of one of the dragons. The restraints had been too loose and one thing had led to another. Took a nasty fall, his colleagues had commented. Charlie had laughed at them through his injuries. He was Charlie Weasley! 38 and invincible! It wasn't like he couldn't work with dragons any more, right?

Paralysed from his waist down. The words had hurt more than the fall. It wasn't like paralysis was incurable in the Wizarding world. Potions and charms and lots of rest would eventually bring back his ability to walk, at least partially, but it would take time. A year and a half later, he's still recovering.

"Is it true?"

Charlie snaps out of his thoughts upon hearing heavily accented German. Three of his students stand at his door, curiously looking at the new professor. Charlie raises a brow at them. The two boys push the only girl in the group forward. She tries to appear taller than she is, straightening her back and looking Charlie straight in the eye. Her hair is tied in a tight braid and her innocent yet stubborn expression reminds him of Ginny.

Charlie relaxes his fist; he hadn't noticed he'd been gripping his cane harder than necessary.

"Is what true, Miss?" he asks curiously. His German is horrible and he knows it. Most of the staff members speak and understand English, but the students speak mostly German and so Charlie tries his best to improve his speech. He learned to speak Romanian fluently in a couple of years; German is taking more time, for some reason.

"That you got that scar while raiding a dragon's nest in China."

"Really?" Charlie frowns suspiciously. He had almost forgotten about the scarring since, never mind how nasty the wounds on his arm are, haven't hurt in years. They are just scars by now. The legs are a more pressing matter. "Who told you that?"

"Professor Kahler said—"

A burst of laughter, loud and lively, escapes Charlie's mouth and he has to lean on his cane to keep himself from toppling over. Of course! What was he thinking? Professor Kahler, a gossipy little wizard with vivid imagination and absolutely no filter between his mouth and brain, is only one person in the entire school who would ever think about something like that about him, or about anyone really. Possibly he had heard the words 'dragons' and 'Charlie' in the same sentence, but that was unlikely since Charlie had kept silent about his past job. It was more likely that Professor had just decided to joke at Charlie's expense without knowing anything truthful about him, and yet hit so close to home. Charlie grins. In case it was the latter, two could play that game.

"Indeed I did," he says after regaining his composure. "Do you wanna know how I got these scars? I'm pretty sure Professor Kahler left some details out."

The students nod eagerly, bouncing up and down in excitement and anticipation. Charlie laughs and begins his tale. He tells them about the vast forests he went through and about the high mountains he had to cross over in the heart of China on his journey to the dragon's nest. He waves his free hand dramatically, describing the way how he, alone and wandless, outwitted the scaly beast with a wingspan over 15 feet and claws so sharp they could smash diamonds. The students gasp when Charlie tells them how he snatched the egg from the mother dragon, blacker than the darkest night with eyes glowing gold, and about how he punched it, straight on the snout, when it had sunk its teeth on his arm, and about how he had run over the hills and hid for days from the dragon.

"And there was I, in the cave, when I noticed this." Charlie shows them the dragon tooth attached to his leather string around his neck. "It had come off when I had punched the dragon. I decided to keep it as my lucky charm instead of selling it to the Queen of England. I sold the egg to her. She's a collector."

The students stare at Charlie in awe.

"So, no telling about this to anyone, okay?" Charlie adds with a wink. "This will stay between you, me, and Professor Kahler."

All three students swear they will keep Charlie's adventure a secret, but as soon as they leave, Charlie is able to hear them whispering about it outside his chambers. Tomorrow by noon, the whole school would know about his little tale.

Charlie lets out a satisfied sigh and ditches his cane, sitting down on the nearest chair. He touches idly the dragon tooth. Instead of the dragon he had made up for his story, it had belonged to the Antipodean Opaleye, the only one they have in the Dragon Sanctuary in Romania and the very same one that had dropped Charlie from its back. Taking the tooth from the dragon hadn't been a payback for dropping Charlie. It was more more of a promise that Charlie would ride her again. Promise that he was coming back.

"Vy didn't you tell them?"

At the door, leaning on the door frame, stands Viktor Krum with his broom and whistle. From an international Quidditch star to a flying instructor—talk about a decrease in salary—but from what Charlie knows, the Bulgarian enjoys his new job. Less traveling and more time for relaxing. The hint of disapproval on Viktor's face makes Charlie even more amused.

"So you were eavesdropping, Vick," Charlie says teasingly. "That's not very nice."

"Vy didn't you tell them vere you got the scars?" Viktor presses on, speaking in his heavily accented English and ignoring the teasing. "You told me ven I asked. Vy not them?"

"Oh, don't start," Charlie groans. "They are just kids. They don't have to know about the horrors of the war just yet."

"But here in Durmstrang—"

"I know, I know," Charlie says, effectively silencing Viktor. "I know how you people handle things here. But just this once—please—let them be kids. Let them believe in a silly little tale about adventure, dragon eggs and the Queen of England. Don't tarnish their innocence."

He hadn't expected to be face to face with one of his old class mates when he had came back to fight in the Battle of Hogwarts, nor had he expected his old friend to fire a curse that would mangle his arm on his way. But that happened and in the end he got over it. It's not healthy to hold grudge against someone who's dead.

"I apologize," Viktor says softly. "Vill you join me vor a valk outside?" he asks instead, dropping the subject.

"So I can slip and break my better leg?" Charlie laughs, waving his cane. "Count me in."


End file.
